Look Heart, No Hands
by unixie
Summary: House thinks about Stacy and Wilson, while listening to a song.


Disclaimer thingee: i love randy travis and his song "look heart, no hands", but i didn't write the song or anything. i do not own the lovely characters known as Dr.Gregory House or Dr. James Wilson. Thanks to the creators of House M.D. and Randy Travis

AN: this is one of my fave songs. PLEASE ENJOY AND REVIEW!

As we know, Dr. Gregory House is more partial to the finer sounds of music. Though he is more inclined to listen to Beethoven, Greg will listen to various artists that he has discovered while listening to the radio in his corvette. Dr. House likes the stations that contain the most variety. This way, he has a better chance of not becoming disgusted with the musical shape of today's world.

On this particular day, when our doctor was halfway home, he heard the familiar twang of a country song. House's nose wrinkled while his eyebrows furrowed and he pursed his lips. Country music made him think of Stacey. Those lyrics had been his salvation, not many years ago. As House lifted his hand to change the station, he told himself that he was past all that. Then, his reasoning sided with his heart as his face softened. Greg put his hand down. He had no idea why, but he felt as though someone was whispering in his ear … _just listen_. House hated the way that his conscience sounded an awful lot like James Wilson. House was nearly home and the man began to sing. With every line sung, House relived the feeling of breaking into pieces.

I remember how it used to feel/riding down an old two mile hill/tennis shoes up on the handle bars/paying no mind to the passing cars

House remembered the feeling of riding a motorcycle, before the infarction. It was even better when he was in college. To this day, he loved the scent of leather mixed with smoky air. House, even now, could feel the motor's tremble and the mechanical voltage numbing his bones…

_No doubts, no fears/just like when you are here_

…and Stacey at his back. To House, NOTHING was better than that. He loved it when she would put her left arm around his left shoulder and lay her hand on his collarbone. Stacey's other arm would always be, tightly, around his waist. Her breasts would press against his back and her head was nestled between his shoulder blades. No, nothing could ever feel as good as that did.

_No chains, no strings/no fences, no walls/no net, just you/to catch me when I fall_

Stacey gave him a feeling that no one had before, especially any woman. Any other time that he'd had a girlfriend he had felt restrained, but he did not feel that way with Stacey. House felt that with Stacey he was settled, yet free. He wanted to protect her, and felt that somehow she could save him.

_Look heart, no hands_

Little did Greg know that the love of his life would be a part of his own destruction. He should have never given Stacey his entirety. Then again, he wouldn't trade his time with her for anything. Wilson had been the only one who had tried (and still pressed on) to revive the ruins that were once Gregory House.

It took a little time to get up the speed/to find the confidence and the strength I'd need/to just let go and reach for the sky

Wilson and House and been more of acquaintances than friends before the infarction. It took a very long time for House to let Wilson want to help him. James Wilson didn't care – he helped anyway. Later, Greg just let go and let James help him. Of course, that was the best type of letting go that he could do. He would never admit that was just was he had done – he gave in. It was like when the cane came out for the first time. Wilson was there.

_You know sometimes I felt I could fly_

Greg remembered when he first drove after the infarction. Wilson was shotgun. It was just a stretch of open highway. Greg pushed his foot on the gas until it touched the floor. He felt alive for the first time in ages. Greg really felt like he could fly. The way Wilson was gripping the seat House thought he must have felt like he was about to puke, piss, or something else that began with a "p". Greg's leg was searing with pain, but his heart was searing with the beginning of a lasting friendship.

_No doubts, no fears/just like when you are here_

House remembered the only time when he had truly bawled tears since he was a child. Everything had fallen apart. Ever so naturally, his head went into Wilson's neck and his hands formed into fists while grasping the material of his friend's shirt. It was the safest he had felt since he was four years old. Wilson had actually HELD him. Granted, he didn't speak to Wilson for a week afterwards because he was so embarrassed. Greg hadn't bawled since, but he had never forgotten that night.

_No chains, no strings/no fences, no walls/no net, just you/to catch me when I fall_

Wilson had always given House the space that he needed, not wanted. House had always told himself that he would be happy being alone. James Wilson simply saw the things that House could not. Then again, maybe he didn't see it. Over half of the occurrences in their relationship had been coincidence. Wilson gave House what he needed.

_Look heart, no hands_

Had he let go and given himself over to Wilson?

_It doesn't take much/Just a smile or a touch_

House loved those nights when they would order take-out and drink cheap wine, while watching a movie. Greg remembered the first time that Wilson had casually put his head on House's shoulder. He could feel that Wilson wasn't looking at him, so he looked down. James' forehead and eyebrows were relaxed (a rare sight). House smiled, and Wilson felt the energy rush through him.

_And I'm a kid again/I could almost feel back when …_

House laughed out loud when he thought of the time when Wilson found out that House hated to sleep in pure dark. Wilson had teased House endlessly until he had pissed the couch when House had put his hand in warm water when he had been asleep.

The chorus played again and a new song began as House pulled into his parking spot. He continued to smile as he limped to his front door. While he was finding his key, the door opened to reveal James Wilson. House did not raise his head, but only his eyes (and he smirked).

"Kicked out again?"

James Wilson crossed his arms over his chest and replied, "Guilty".

James moved out of the way as Greg limped by. Apparently, James had already made coffee. Greg slipped on the rug. Before he could catch a hold of the couch, Wilson was holding him up. Greg gripped his cane until his knuckles turned white.

"Thanks", he groused.

Wilson only smiled. The colour of his eyes reflected the aroma of the coffee beans.

_…no net, just you/to catch me when I fall/look heart, no hands_


End file.
